By now you know that I don’t care for exotic foods. I am so glad to be in Chicago as I write this. Chicago is known for their… Deep Dish Pizza! Hooray, cultural food that I love. If there is any part of traveling that I get nervous about, it’s the food. I can handle the bizzaro medicines, I can manage terrifyingly long plane rides and I don’t mind wearing the same clothes for a few days. But if I can’t digest the food, I’m in trouble.
It’s not that I don’t like the taste of new foods (although that is true), it’s the reliance on surviving on it. Take for example, my trip to Malaysia. Whenever I travel internationally I bring two staples from home with me, M&M’s and Cheez-It snack crackers. It doesn’t matter where I am, when I eat those foods I feel like I am back home.
Now most countries have American fare on the menu, whether it be a chicken-something or a salad of sorts. As for Malaysia, I had no idea what to expect. I packed some granola bars in the suitcase for some added protection. And I was glad I did.
Surprisingly Malaysia has many of the same chain restaurants as the states do. Part of me was surprised, but part of me was also not surprised. The American culture has permeated the globe. Sadly for my belly, I wasn’t able to travel to any of these comfort places and dined on local menus selected by my host (not by choice).
Day 1 was palatable. In fact, each day was palatable except that they weren’t, how shall I say, digestible. Call it Montezuma’s Revenge, Delhi Belly, Pharaoh’s Revenge, Thai’dal Wave or the Holiday Tummy, I call it miserable. Imagine a week of never knowing when you’ll need to use the bathroom…and for what purpose. Needless to say, as wonderful as Malaysia was, I was anxious to get home.
I had about a 10-hour layover in Seoul, South Korea on the way back to the States. (I’ll share with you the adventures I had there in future posts.) However, what I will remember most about Seoul is the Bennigan’s restaurant in the terminal. The deliciousness that is the Monte Cristo never tasted so good.
I didn’t care that it was fried. I didn’t care that it was loaded with carbs and calories and all the other bad things for you. All that mattered was that it was American and delicious. Powdered sugar, raspberry jelly, ham, turkey and cheddar never tasted so good. It was better than delicious it was heavenly. A Monte Cristo never tasted so good. The best part was, here I am on the opposite side of the planet eating the sandwich I have at my local Bennigan’s. It literally tasted the same. How cool is that?
Notice the glass of wine in the picture. It’s even better with a Cabernet.
I’ll always remember South Korea, not for it’s temples or people, but for the Monte Cristo. My oasis in a desert of spicy soups and curried foods.
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